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"Updraft of Ribaldry"
May 2003
Media: technical pen, digital
Author: KelleyFaye
There she is, the iron maiden. The frigid, strident Madame Giry. That hard hearted she-dog who orders me about -- Hold your tongue Buquet! Stay away from the dancers, Buquet! -- God how I love her. The cold, pale skin of her face pulled tight by the perfect knot of hair atop her head. I love for her reprimands, the sharpness of her tone, the thump of her staff on the hardwood dancefloor. Oh, for the day I will break her icy, marble facade. That day she will reveal to me the inexperienced girl behind the matron. She may look down her nose at me now, but on that day Madame Antoinette Giry will see how I'm hung!
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